User blog comment:Biggren/The Mice of Wintor/@comment-2246928-20170525142342/@comment-1298206-20180703204215

''Arrows hissed around Abigail, causing her to duck her head and continue forward blindly. Upon glancing back to determine the distance between herself and her pursuers, she realized that they had since halted. The faint cry of retreat came from several meters back. What was going on? Hadn't they been firing arrows just moments ago? Confused at what caused the king's soldiers, who seemingly had them cornered, to turn back, the weary mouse cautiously peered forward in the direction of the treeline. She realized that it had not been the guards who were firing arrows, but a group of archers just ahead of her.''

''Then Abigail saw who her saviors were: half a dozen hares, all smartly dressed in tidy green uniforms. A smile of hope spread across her face. The sound of her own breathing as she panted for air gradually slowed down as she assumed a calm pace as she approached the treeline where the hares and her fellow villagers were. She halted to listen to the hare who addressed them. Long Patrol? That name wasn't familiar.''

Having finally caught her breath, Abigail approached the sergeant. "Thank ye kindly for helping us out there, Sergeant. My name's Abigail. It's a pleasure to meet you."